


Ten Points to Win ?? ?????

by yozra



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Post-Time Skip, onigiri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25283875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yozra/pseuds/yozra
Summary: Keiji receives a new point card for Onigiri Miya.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Miya Osamu
Comments: 64
Kudos: 391





	Ten Points to Win ?? ?????

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnaKanezawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaKanezawa/gifts).



> @AnnaKanezawa - Thank you always for your support, and for reminding me about this story - I'm not sure I would have finished it without you giving me the much-needed nudge! I hope you enjoy it♡

**1\. Buy onigiri at a Black Jackals game!**

“What’s this?” Keiji asked, blinking at the card being held in front of his face.  
  
He had just bought his usual staple for a Black Jackals game – onigiri, one of each filling, and two packs with pickles, to be shared with Udai – and was about to leave when Osamu told him to ‘hold up’ and handed him the card. Keiji slipped his fingers into his shirt pocket, feeling the edge of his own point card to make sure he did remember to retrieve it (having added three stamps to make the total sixteen, four away from a free onigiri with a standard filling.)  
  
Keiji pulled the card out from between Osamu’s fingers and began to read.  
  
  


_Onigiri Miya - Summer Promotion!  
Collect five stickers for a free onigiri with a fillin’ of yer choice!  
Collect all ten and visit one of our stores to claim yer prize!_  
  
  


The first sticker, an onigiri with the number ‘1’ written in white on the seaweed, had already been stuck on, encircled by the challenge ‘Buy onigiri at a Black Jackals game!’; Keiji scanned the remaining nine challenges around dotted triangular outlines where the rest of the stickers were to be applied.  
  
“Somethin’ fun for the summer.”  
  
Keiji flipped the card – Onigiri Miya’s logo – and glanced up at Osamu. “What’s the prize?”  
  
“That’s a surprise for when you collect all ten stickers,” Osamu said with a wide grin. “Feel up to the challenge?”  
  
The promotion ran until the end of September, which gave him two-and-a-half months. “I’ll definitely try.” Some challenges were a little trickier to complete, but Keiji was already calculating time frames in which he could complete them.  
  
“Great. I’ll be keepin’ tabs on yer progress.”  
  
Osamu looked aside and started serving the next customer, and Keiji distanced himself by several paces, looking down at the point card again. He couldn’t help but feel it to be some kind of key, which would unlock something bigger than the word ‘prize’ indicated.  
  
Keiji glanced back at the man again, now putting onigiri onto the table and exchanging money with faster momentum now that there was a queue forming. He had been hoping they could converse more; in the early days, they would watch the start of the match together, exchanging commentaries on gameplay and players peppered with recent events in their daily lives, but as Onigiri Miya gained popularity, this grew increasingly difficult. He supposed he could message Osamu later – they had exchanged contact details after the first few meetings – but it just wasn’t the same as talking to him with his expressive features and colourful outbursts.  
  
But there were now opportunities, Keiji told himself as he scanned the conditions one last time, and pocketing the card, he headed back to his seat.

**2\. Add Onigiri Miya to yer messagin’ app!**

Keiji had added the official account as soon as he knew of Onigiri Miya’s existence. During the days before the Tokyo store opening, he would enviously eye the messages with their discount codes and events where they would be setting up their stand (sadly all around the Kansai region). When the Tokyo store opened, Keiji could enjoy Onigiri Miya whenever he wanted and put those discount codes to good use.  
  
There was a row of buttons at the bottom of the screen replacing the text box – one for the official website, one for the blog, and a third that had been recently changed to ‘Summer Promotion!’ and Keiji pressed it—

  
_  
Thanks for joinin’ the Onigiri Miya Summer Promotion! Head to our stores and show the picture below to receive yer sticker._ _  
_ _  
Good luck collectin’!  
_

  
  
A picture of little onigiris forming the number 2 followed the message, and then another with a code for 200 yen off the classic onigiri set.  
  
Keiji went to the store the next day and left with the sticker and the classic onigiri set.

**3\. Eat at Onigiri Miya, Tokyo store!**

It came as a surprise to many who assumed, but Keiji almost never ate in-store. He didn’t have the luxury with his packed schedules and overtime and having to travel to the other side of the city which was where the store was located.  
  
But he had to collect this point, so he went in on a Sunday evening, the store not packed but certainly not deserted, single and paired customers dotted around the U-shaped counter and three out of six tables along the sides occupied. He decided on the set with two onigiris (pickled plum, salmon), miso soup (leek), and a plate of four bitesized side-dishes selectable from ten (grilled egg, fried chicken, hijiki seaweed, crab stick salad).  
  
Keiji chewed his food slowly, enjoying the mellow atmosphere with its traditional appearance of pale wooden counters and wall panels, and traditional background music, upbeat and festive with taiko drums and flutes, set at a volume that created a good accompaniment to banter. Even the workers held themselves in a manner similar to Osamu, their smiles and loud greetings warmly welcoming each customer switching to complete focus as they worked on the order until another smile broke their serious demeanour when serving the meals. The setting resonated Osamu, and Keiji felt a rising urge to message him, just a quick note to say he was eating in-store and enjoying his meal.  
  
He decided against it. Osamu didn’t need a regular update on his progress.  
  
That being said, Osamu did mention he would be ‘keepin’ tabs’, whatever that meant. Would he want to know? Was he saying that because Keiji was a devoted customer (one of undoubtedly many)?  
  
Keiji turned off his phone and pushed it back into his pocket, doing what he should be doing – immersing himself fully in his surroundings, and especially in each of the flavours created with care, taught personally to all the workers who represented the Miya name.  
  
When Keiji stepped outside, full and extremely satisfied, he felt he could tackle whatever the workweek would throw at him.

**4\. Order a bento!**

Keiji ordered so much bento, all the workers instantly recognised him and made small talk while he waited on his order. Onigiri Miya’s bento was grafted into his Monday and Friday lunch breaks (he would eat it every day, if he didn’t have days where his co-workers, senpais or boss invited him to lunch, or his conscience sensibly reminded that he would be nutritionally unbalanced should he continue this lifestyle); he also bought extra for Udai whenever he paid the exhausted manga artist a visit.  
  
One sticker was enough for his point card, and he could easily have refused the additional offers by admitting he already had one.  
  
For the first several times however, whenever he saw a different person working at the till, he would pretend he hadn’t collected it yet just so he could have one to stick into his planner, and onto his glasses case, with three spare for future occasions.

**5\. Use #BetterOnigiriBetterMiya on yer favourite platform an’ say why we’re the best!🍙🦊**

The fox emoji clearly implied ‘why you think Miya Osamu’s the better twin’ (he was sure the entire nation knew of their sibling rivalry) and his thumb hovered over the blank text box…  
  
Would Osamu be checking this himself? No, it was highly doubtful he would be the only one sifting through hash tags and Onigiri Miya accounts on social networking sites.  
  
  
_All the ingredients are carefully chosen, and each onigiri is packed with care. Moreover, although Miya Atsumu is an incredibly skilled setter, I would only trust Miya Osamu to make my onigiri right. #BetterOnigiriBetterMiya_  
  
  
Keiji hit send before he could do some mulling and talk himself out of it.  
  
Shortly after, he received a reply with another picture of onigiri forming a ‘5’ with the same instructions as before.  
  
He was halfway to collecting his prize.

**6\. Create yer own original fillin’!**

Keiji dropped his pencil on the table and leaned back in his chair, rolling his shoulders as he glanced at the corner of his laptop – 20:36. He was done with his quota for the day and there was no rush to start another set of editing, although by clearing it now he could lighten his workload for tomorrow—  
  
Vibrations from his desk interrupted his decision-making, and he glanced at his phone screen – hesitated for three buzzes, surprised to see the caller ID – and quickly picked up the call.  
  
“Good evening, Osamu-kun.”  
  
_“Evenin’, Keiji-kun. I just saw yer drawin’.”  
_  
“Drawing?” Keiji frowned, picking up the pencil again as he wondered when he had switched from editing manga to actually drawing one himself— “Oh, you mean my drawing for the challenge.” He had printed off the sheet at work and drew his onigiri as a break during his overtime, and then handed it into the store three days ago; he didn't think it would reach Osamu so quickly.  
  
“ _I know you like nanohana an’ all, but this takes the cake – it’s green an’ yellow! The flowers are bitter, it’s why you’re supposed to eat the shoots before they, y’know – flower!_ ”  
  
“The yellow’s the mustard,” Keiji corrected, pointing his pencil at the yellow sections in the imaginary drawing of his onigiri.  
  
“ _Mustard?!_ ” Sharp rustling followed, like Osamu was shaking a sheet of paper. “ _How much mustard ya puttin’ in there, the whole tube?! Where’s the rice?!_ ”  
  
“I assumed the rice would colour from the leaves and mustard.”  
  
“ _Well, all right, I’ll give ya that, but – the stalks of nanohana stickin’ out the top?! What’re you tryin’ to turn this into, a cocktail?!_ ”  
  
“I thought the presentation should be aesthetically pleasing.”  
  
“ _Didja show yer manga artist this? What’s-his-face—”_  
  
“Udai-sensei? Yes, he said it was very creative and was sure to get your attention.”  
  
_“…He weren’t wrong.”_  
  
Keiji started twirling the pencil between his fingers. “Do you… not like it—?”  
  
“ _Course I like it, ya dingbat!”  
  
_His twirling came to an abrupt stop as he repeated _dingbat?_ in his head, and he heard Osamu coughing, with a faint sound resembling snickering in the background—  
  
“ _Sorry, slip of the tongue. Tsumu’s here and my filter’s looser than—”  
  
“YEAH, SAMU WANTS YA—!!”  
  
_Loud static made Keiji push his phone from his ear, and he frowned at it as he heard muffled conversation sandwiched between more noise.  
  
Did he hear that correctly?  
  
_“—n’ keep yer mouth shut! Hello? Keiji-kun? Ya still there—?”_  
  
Keiji pressed the phone back to his ear. “Did Atsumu-kun just say you want me—”  
  
“— _To do well on the promotion,_ ” Osamu loudly continued. “ _Cuz if you don’t, I’d be disappointed in my favourite customer._ ” Keiji felt a little satisfied in being referred to by that title, but it wasn’t enough to offset the sinking feeling in his gut. “ _I was just ringin’ to thank ya for yer contribution and for takin’ part. I know you’re a few away from completin’ the set.”_  
  
How did Osamu know that? Maybe the workers at Tokyo store informed him (which then raised the question of how did _they_ know? Keiji tried not to dwell on it.)  
  
“ _Anyway, lemme know when you’re headin’ this way. And get yerself out the office, it’s past home time._ ”  
  
“How do you—”  
  
“ _I know what you’re like, Keiji._ ”  
  
Hearing his name spoken in a softened dialect without the suffix, Keiji’s pulse tripped and heavily stumbled.  
  
“ _Speak to ya again soon. G’night._ ” Some more noise and the line fell silent.  
  
Keiji wished he could also have wished him a good night. It would be strange to ring back or message with that word, so he put his phone down, bundled his stack of papers together, and decided to head home, though not without dropping into Onigiri Miya’s along the way.

**7\. Buy yerself a bag of Proper Hyogo Rice!**

It went without saying that Keiji switched to Proper Hyogo Rice as soon as he found out which brand Osamu used. It was sticky, fluffy, and complemented his miso soups and dishes. Keiji had even tried to make an onigiri or two to see if he could recreate that of Onigiri Miya, and while the consistency was nearly perfect, there was something always missing in the flavour.  
  
He decided to stick with rice bowls at home and leave the onigiri making to the professionals.

**8\. Send a photo/video of Tsumu lookin’ like a klutz!**

Keiji almost cheated on this challenge by pulling up his chat screen with Bokuto and beginning to type a message asking if he could snap a photo of Atsumu looking less than ideal, when music blared from his TV; he looked up to find it was one of those variety shows pranking famous people and, with a stroke of luck, Atsumu (coincidentally, along with Bokuto) was featured as a guest. Scrapping his message, Keiji switched to the camera app, sitting ready on the edge of his seat.  
  
Twenty minutes later and Keiji had sent a message to Osamu, along with a close-up photograph of his twin screeching as he clutched onto a (surprisingly or unsurprisingly) composed Bokuto inside a ‘broken elevator’ (makeshift box), having turned to find a ‘ghost’ (actress in a white nightgown with long black hair) ‘coming to get them’ (appearing from behind a secret door).  
  
Osamu immediately replied with a stamp of a fox rolling on the floor laughing, followed by a stamp of his own face from the ‘Onigiri Miya’ stamp set (which Keiji owned but could never bring himself to use), a big thumbs up of approval.  
  
Keiji preened on the inside, very pleased with himself.

**9\. Visit Kita-san’s farm for a tour!**

Keiji was a city boy. He had been born in the concrete jungle, had grown up learning to read faded paint and worn-down asphalt and coloured plastic fencing around construction sites, and currently he shuffled between the cement blocks of his home and office so he could sit at his plastic desk in front of his polarised glass with glare from excessively white lights above sometimes causing him headaches. The closest things at hand remotely resembling nature were the dead sheets of pulp he had to sift through and correct using dead sticks of wood, while more dead sheets of pulp glued together were stacked around his desk. Despite the slightly morbid image, he didn’t dislike it; he was so used to this environment that he now found comfort in the mechanical whirs of fans and dots of lights blinking curiously – though he did think he should invest in a little greenery, for his desk and living space (and perhaps sanity).  
  
So it was almost surreal when he stood in front of the vast squares of lush green that were too brilliant for his eyes gradually weakened by dim lights, close-proximity work and grey-to-monotones, with the noon sun beating down on him so beads of sweat accumulated on his nose and forehead trickled down his face (sweat also trickled down his neck, and back, and front, and legs, and – basically everywhere). The humidity pressuring him from all around to make his chest heave with each breath reminded him of his one-on-one practices with Bokuto.  
  
He was one among a company of ten, listening to Kita (looking unfazed by the weather) explain about the rice growing and packing process, and the various tools and machinery he used throughout the year. As it was the middle of summer, there was no hands-on rice farm experience, so instead they returned to his farmhouse where they could rest and eat a simple meal with rice from the previous harvest.  
  
After the tour finished, Kita handed out stickers to the visitors, who then left to tread to the nearest bus stop. Keiji was last in line, and he took the sticker, about to thank the man—  
  
“You’re Akaashi, ain’t you.”  
  
In the half a second where Keiji reeled off reasons as to why the farmer knew, Kita asked, “How’re you findin’ Hyogo?”  
  
“It’s very peaceful.” After a moment’s deliberation, Keiji added, “Yet the vibrancy is quite overwhelming.”  
  
Kita nodded, understandingly with empathy. “It does your body good to get out of the city.”  
  
“I do feel the benefits.” Even with the exhaustion, Keiji thought; he kept that to himself. “I’d like to make time to get out of Tokyo more often.”  
  
“Maybe you’ll be makin’ more trips this way.”  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
Kita observed him wordlessly, and Keiji suddenly felt hotter under his gaze than the sun. He pulled out his towel to wipe his face.  
  
“Just a hunch.” Kita glanced aside and gave a nod. “You’ll want to take this bus back, otherwise it’ll be another hour before the next one. Osamu’s been lookin’ forward to you visitin’, you don’t want to keep him waitin’ too long.”  
  
Keiji thanked him for the advice and once more for the tour and went on his way, glancing over his shoulder after a minute or so to find Kita still in the distance, watching. He quickly looked ahead, trying to make sense of his words, and more specifically at Osamu looking forward to seeing him. Keiji had to admit that out of everything he had planned, he was most excited by the idea of sitting at Osamu’s restaurant, eating freshly made rice packed into a ball by Osamu’s hands.

**10\. Eat at Onigiri Miya, Hyogo store!**

Keiji stood in front of the sliding wooden doors, beside which hung a large circular wooden slab with the Miya logo brushed in black ink.  
  
He was finally here, freshened up from his short soak at a nearby onsen and a change into his spare set of clothes, the tips of his hair still damp (though maybe that was from the humidity). It was the first time to step into the main store and see Osamu in his natural habitat, handling the food raw in his hands.  
  
Keiji took a deep breath to prepare himself (for what he wasn’t sure), and pushed the door aside with a quiet clatter, ducking under the curtain as he stepped inside.  
  
Onigiri Miya was empty, save for one person standing behind the counter, head down and hands working.  
  
“Hey there, Keiji-kun.”  
  
Osamu glanced up at him, a small smirk on his face, almost identical to the one Keiji received when he walked up to the onigiri stand at the volleyball matches, except right now the expression was wrapped in tenderness and packed with an emotion aimed personally at him, which he couldn’t place a name to without opening his mouth and taking a bite—  
  
His stomach’s grumbling got there first.  
  
Keiji adjusted his glasses and pushed his fringe aside as he smiled apologetically, torn between wanting to crawl into a hole and not wanting Osamu’s quiet chuckling to stop.  
  
“Grab yerself a seat, yer food’s nearly done.”  
  
Keiji chose the centre stool at the front counter, dropping his rucksack into the basket by his feet as he slid into his seat, shuffling to get comfortable. “Excuse my stomach,” he said once he was settled. “It’s been a long day.”  
  
“What’re you apologisin’ for, yer stomach just announced you’ve been savin’ yerself for me—”  
  
Osamu flicked a glance and winked – it hit Keiji both in the gut and his chest – and returned to his work, squeezing and rolling the rice swiftly, steadily in his hands. Keiji wondered what filling he had chosen; perhaps something salty like kelp in this hot weather.  
  
“Howdja find Kita-san’s farm tour? Pity it weren’t plantin’ or havestin’ season, I would’ve liked to see a city boy tryin’ ta cope.”  
  
“I have no qualms in getting my hands and feet dirty. And while I no longer play volleyball to the extent I used to, I’m more than capable of manual labour. I did, after all, assist Bokuto-san with his practices for two years, with additional chasing in between.”  
  
Osamu pulled a cross between a pained and pitying expression. “Forgot about that. I take everythin’ back.”  
  
The store fell quiet – no music was playing in the background here, which amplified the rhythm of the sticky squeezing and his own breathing – and reminded Keiji of his initial impression. “Why is the store so empty today?”  
  
“Cuz I closed it,” Osamu said, to the food than to Keiji.  
  
“Closed? Why?”  
  
“Wouldn’t be able to concentrate on this if I had to keep servin’ people now, would I?”  
  
Osamu turned away then, off to the side so Keiji could only see him hunching momentarily before straightening his back, and turning with a small wooden tray in his hand, which held a towel, a small plate of pickles, and a large plate of a single onigiri.  
  
“Here ya go” – Osamu set the tray down before him – “the Keiji special.”  
  
The onigiri was a spitting image to the one Keiji had drawn.  
  
“You made this?” Keiji asked, lifting up the plate to Osamu’s ‘who else would’ve made it?!’, examining the onigiri in all its glory including the two stalks of nanohana sticking out diagonally off the side. “…Is all the yellow mustard?” With the amount of yellow patches on his onigiri, Keiji was beginning to doubt even his limited culinary skills.  
  
“You can rest easy, I added a touch of turmeric to colour the rice, though there’s mustard in there, for sure.”  
  
“That’s very clever,” Keiji said in awe. He looked to Osamu as he put his plate down. “May I?”  
  
“It’s yer onigiri, and I’m waitin’ for yer verdict.”  
  
Keiji first wiped his hands on the warm white towel, folding it neatly and putting it aside before picking up his onigiri, examining it again from several angles before lifting the tip to his mouth and taking a large bite—  
  
Nanohana, dressed in mustard, packed into an onigiri – his two favourite foods. Not an overwhelming amount of mustard, just enough sharpness to complement the bitter shoots, with turmeric adding an earthy depth to the normally light flavour, a touch of salt, a touch of sweetness from the flowers – Keiji’s senses had never been so fully sated by such a fine array.  
  
“Whaddya think?”  
  
Keiji savoured the last of the lingering flavours before swallowing; he looked to Osamu.  
  
“I would like to order this on a daily basis.”  
  
Osamu barked a laugh, shaking his head as his shoulders shook from his chuckles.  
  
“I’m quite serious,” Keiji pressed, looking down at this miracle of a creation. “I don’t know how you came up with this.”  
  
“Me?!” Osamu pulled up the sheet that had Keiji’s handiwork drawn in green and yellow. “ _You_ came up with it!”  
  
“But you stopped it from turning it into a disaster.”  
  
“Just did some minor tweakin’,” Osamu shrugged off, putting the sheet down.  
  
“I’m still serious about the daily orders.”  
  
“I know y’are.”  
  
Keiji put the onigiri back down on the plate (much to his stomach’s dismay as it grumbled again, quieter and hopefully out of Osamu’s earshot). “Osamu-kun—”  
  
“I forgot” – Osamu dashed away, stopping at the till – “yer sticker.” He returned holding out a sheet with the last onigiri.  
  
Keiji took the sticker, the missing number in his hand making him smile; he pulled his wallet out from his pocket, and the point card from its front sleeve, and focused on peeling the yellow backing and aligning the sticker with the dots, sticking it carefully down onto the paper and repeating the process a second time before lifting up the card—  
  
Complete.  
  
Keiji held it in both hands, admiring his effort for a few more moments, and then held it out to Osamu like he might a business card. “Can I collect my prize?”  
  
Osamu took the card, also with both hands, and brought the card up close to his exaggeratedly squinting eyes as he mock-scrutinised the stickers as if checking that Keiji hadn’t cheated. He dropped the act. “Sure can,” he said lightly, and reached for something under the counter, placing it onto the table.  
  
Keiji had exchanged his point card for a slip of paper that looked like a ticket, the brushed black ink reading—  
  


  
_Dinner date with Miya Osamu_

  
  
When Keiji pulled his eyes away from his simply wrapped yet heavily packed prize back to the man who had given it to him, he found Osamu with a serious set to his eyes, jerking Keiji back to his days on the court when he saw the same look during gameplay, though the blow was softened by the faint smile – not mischievous, not joking, just his way of lightening the question that hung between them.  
  
“Does everyone receive this?” Keiji asked, surprisingly calm considering what was being asked.  
  
“Only one winner for this one.” Osamu, too, was calm, his tone smooth and confident. “Ya got lucky.”  
  
“Is there an expiry date?”  
  
Osamu checked his watch. “’Bout the time it’ll take for you to finish eatin’ – I got a table booked for seven.”  
  
“Is this why you insisted I extend my one-day trip into an overnight stay?”  
  
“I didn’t do any insistin’! _You_ were the one hummin’ an’ harrin’ ’bout what to do, hintin’ ya wouldn’t mind eatin’ my onigiri for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with extra to take into work the next mornin’!”  
  
Keiji chuckled softly; he had been caught out. “It seems we were both hoping for the same outcome.” He handed the ticket back to Osamu. “I’d like to claim this now then. Or rather, when I’ve finished my personalised onigiri.”  
  
Osamu also huffed a laugh as he took the slip back. “Wonder if it still would’ve been a yes if I didn’t own an onigiri business.”  
  
“I’m sure you would have conceived of other ways to reach my stomach.”  
  
“Is that the only way to get through to ya?”  
  
“No, but I won’t deny it quickens the process.” Keiji placed his fingertips lightly onto his rice. “I always enjoyed our exchanges no matter how brief, and the prospect of seeing you was equal to seeing the matches themselves.” He quickly stuffed his mouth with another bite.  
  
“There’s a reason I call ya my favourite customer.”  
  
Keiji had to control himself so as not to grip the onigiri too tightly.  
  
“Oh—” Keiji looked up as he swallowed, and Osamu shifted to straighten. “What was the original prize for completing the set?”  
  
“Huh? Right, right – just an onigiri strap with the Miya logo.”  
  
“Ah. I see.” Keiji looked down to stare at his onigiri.  
  
“You want it, don’t cha.”  
  
“A little bit, yes.”  
  
When he looked up, he found a small onigiri floating in front of his face, the Miya logo in white on the dark seaweed; Osamu turned the strap between his fingers to the back, where the character for ‘red’ from his surname was in a circle, written in what looked like correction fluid.  
  
“For my favourite customer,” Osamu said, his grin gentle and teasing again.  
  
“Just a customer?” Keiji replied with a small smile of his own, wiping his fingers before taking the strap.  
  
“I’ll make you a new card and maybe the prize’ll be a new title.”  
  
Keiji laughed loudly, releasing all the lingering tension, startling Osamu, whose grin began to stretch even wider.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_“Evenin’, Keiji-kun.”_  
  
“Good evening, Osamu-kun. Your letter arrived in the post today.”  
  
_“Didja open it?”_  
  
“I did. I thought you were joking about the point card.”  
  
_“Keiji-kun. You should know better than to underestimate a funny man’s words.”_  
  


**Onigiri Miya’s Super Secret Summer Promotion!**

**  
  
1\. Watch a Black Jackals game with Osamu-kun!**

“Does this mean keep you company while you run the onigiri stand?”  
  
_“I’ll be sure to get you an’ yer frail legs a chair.”  
_  
“That won’t be necessary, I’m very much able to stand for the duration of the whole match.”

**2\. Block Tsumu from yer messagin’ app!**

“I dread to ask, but… what did you do this time?”  
  
_“Nothin’… ’cept maybe add a page to the website compilin’ all the photos of Tsumu everyone sent in.”_  
  
“Then I refuse to take sides in your sibling rivalry.”  
  
_“But...?”_  
  
“…But if he messages, I’ll pretend I was too busy to respond to non-work-related issues.”  
  
_“I’ll take it.”_

**3\. Eat at Onigiri Miya, Hyogo store – again!**

_“Easy point – you’re already doin’ it next weekend!”_  
  
“I’m very excited to attend your anniversary event.”  
  
_“And not excited to see me? Ya wound me, Keiji.”_  
  
“Due to the duration of time I have known of each one’s existence, the fondness I hold for onigiri far exceeds the fondness I hold for you, although the latter is catching up exponentially.”  
  
_“…I ain’t sure how to reply to that.”_

**4\. Make a bento for Osamu-kun!**

“I wasn’t aware you wished to fall ill.”  
  
_“C’mon, you’re capable of cookin’ rice and fryin’ up veg.”  
_  
“How am I to deliver it to you?”  
  
_“Bring it when ya come next week.”_  
  
“Why do I get the feeling you’re expecting rabbit apples, octopus sausages and seaweed cut in the shape of a heart?”  
  
_“I weren’t expectin’ a heart, but now I’m expectin’ ya to deliver.”_  
  
“…”  
  
_“You’re the one who said it.”_

**5\. Use #BetterOnigiriBetterMiya on yer favourite platform an’ say why Osamu-kun’s the best!🦊**

_“I liked that side note you slipped in last time, I’m curious ’bout what else you think of me.”_  
  
“Oh. You saw that. Will you by any chance be pinning up this message to the top of your official accounts for the public to see?”  
  
_“Yes.”  
_  
“I thought you might deny it.”  
  
_“Don’t need to – I know you’ll do it, cuz havin’ an incomplete card’ll grate yer nerves.”  
_  
“Unfortunately, you’re right.”

**6\. Create yer own original fillin’ for Osamu-kun!**

“I don’t even know your favourite food.”  
  
_“That’s the beauty of it – you can use_ anythin’. _You liked yer onigiri, didn’t cha? So make another one for me.”  
  
_“I suppose… if you insist.”

**7\. Buy yerself a bag of Proper Hyogo Rice!**

“You’ve used this twice. And I thought you were already aware that I switched to it.”  
  
_“It’s a free point for supportin’ our senpai an’ ex-captain.”  
_  
“…”  
  
_“Keiji-kun?”_  
  
“I suddenly felt moved by your respect and thoughtfulness towards Kita-san.”  
  
_“You’re thinkin’ of givin’ Bokkun a call after this, ain’t cha?”  
_  
“…Perhaps.”

**8\. Send a photo/video of Tsumu lookin’ like a klutz!**

“Again?”  
  
_“It’s for a good cause – bringin’ joy to the people. I’ll letcha get help from the Black Jackals.”_

**9\. Visit Kita-san’s farm for harvestin’ season!**

“I hope you’ll also be joining me.”  
  
_“We’ll make it a competition, see who can harvest the most rice.”_  
  
“I accept your challenge.”

**10\. Eat at Osamu-kun’s home!**

“ _The first day you’re here, we always eat out. The second day, I bring onigiri to yer hotel where you eat two for breakfast_ in yer room _, two for an afternoon snack_ at a park _, and two for dinner_ on yer train back _, with some left over to eat at_ yer _home. I wanna see you enjoyin’ my food in my own home.”_  
  
“…”  
  
_“I’m only askin’ for one meal, Keiji, nothin’ more - unless you’re wantin’ more. I wanna cook for ya, feed ya somethin’ good an’ proper. Somethin’ more substantial than onigiri.”  
_  
“…Osamu-kun.”  
  
_“…Keiji-kun.”  
  
_“I’d like to know what kind of meals would be served at Osamu-kun’s home.”  
  
_“The kind that’ll be the best you’ll ever eat.”_  
  



End file.
